


Alongside You

by fallenrose24



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15432435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenrose24/pseuds/fallenrose24
Summary: (Pre-canon) A Berserker Mammut breaks through the Anangham Gate and Mὸrag is called in to stop it. During the battle, Brighid puts on an impressive display that makes Mὸrag rethink how she and her Blade choose to fight.





	Alongside You

**Author's Note:**

> First fic to mark the beginning of the last year of my 20's! And because it's my birthday, I reserve the right to have Mὸrag get the heck beaten out of her in yet another story.
> 
> For some reason, everything I'm writing lately has been long... sheesh! This fic is set sometime after Mὸrag is well established as the Special Inquisitor. I always loved seeing cut scenes where Mὸrag and Brighid would fight together, which you don't really see other Drivers/Blades do. This is my head canon for how that came about... and also what lives in Brighid's glowstick vials on her belt. This was partly inspired by a comic by 17oodle on pixiv... though I sadly can't read Japanese.
> 
> One of these days, I'll get back to including other characters in the game...

Niall frowned as he let a gust of wind slap closed the report folder in his hands. His gaze wandered to the training ground below, watching as a regiment of soldiers started their morning warm-ups. There must have been two dozen, at least… all moving in unison, bodies covered from head-to-toe in sweltering black body armor.

“So, our numbers continue to decline.”

He turned to face the Grand Marshal and Special Inquisitor. Robalt and Mὸrag stood vigilant with Brighid and Aegaeon beside them.

The Grand Marshal cleared his throat. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m afraid fewer and fewer recruits have had the proper aptitude.”

“Core Crystal resonance rates have been falling across Alrest…” Mὸrag sighed, a look of annoyance clear across her face. “Despite the Praetorium’s insistence on using their cleansing protocol.”

“Rumors have long been circulating the Uraya’s army has scarcely a Driver left amongst their ranks.” Niall looked to his sister imploringly. “Let’s be sure that word of our own decline does not get back to them.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty… but, if I may…”

“Of course, Mὸrag.”

The Inquisitor eyed Robalt in her peripheral before bowing her head. “I suggest we begin recruiting from Gormott.”

“Lady Mὸrag-“

“Forgive me, Grand Marshal.” She kept her eyes trained on the Emperor even as she addressed the man beside her. “I know you have respected the Senate’s vote to keep our military strictly Ardainian, but are the Gormotti not citizens of the Empire?”

Robalt crossed his arms in defiance. “You honestly think they would willing fight for a nation that overtook their country?”

“I believe their loyalty would be more assured if we afforded them the same respect as the citizens in our capitol.”

Niall took a step forward, hoping to dampen the tension rising between the two leaders of his army. “Do the Gormotti have a history of Driver aptitude?”

Mὸrag shook her head. “Not recently, but that is surely our own doing as we’ve refrained from dolling out Core Crystals to the Province. Though that clearly did not stop the Consul…”

Brighid cleared her throat softly, signaling for Mὸrag to bite her tongue before she loses her temper. “Your Majesty?”

“Please speak freely, Brighid.”

“There are entries in my journal that detail Gormotti Drivers I encountered prior to the recent war.”

“And we have received a few reports from Torigoth Relay Base of bandit Drivers populating the untamed regions of the Titan.” Aegaeon nodded his head when Mὸrag sent him a thankful smile. “That certainly indicates some current aptitude – illegal, though it may be.”

Niall swallowed a laugh when he noticed the look of obvious discomfort on Robalt’s face. Mὸrag certainly knew how to quickly garner support for her opinions. It made arguing with her nearly pointless. Nevertheless, though he had long agreed with his sister’s position on their military recruitment, she was not the head of his army. Robalt deserved a show of respect.

“I appreciate your input – all of you.” The young Emperor turned to older man who had surprisingly gone silent. “Grand Marshal, do you have any reason to believe the Gormotti would be physically incapable of serving at a level worthy of our military?”

Robalt sighed. “No, Your Majesty.”

“And do you agree that a thorough psychological examination lead by you, the Special Inquisitor, and soldiers of your choosing will be enough to assess loyalty?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very good. While I accept Inquisitor Mὸrag’s position, _you_ are the leader of my army. I will defer to your wisdom here.”

A gentle smile pulled at the man’s lips as he was seemingly placated by the recognition of his station. “I respect Lady Mὸrag’s idealism, but I believe consideration should be given to how likely the Senate is to-“

“Never mind the Senate. I hope you would agree that there would be little ground for dismissal of a military proposal put forth by me with the support of my Grand Marshal _and_ Special Inquisitor.” Niall straightened his posture as his eyes steeled with authority. “I can override them by decree, if it comes to that. I will not let noblemen and women contradict the experienced opinion of my elite soldiers.”

“Very well, Your Majesty. I accept Lady Mὸrag’s suggestion, but under two conditions.” Robalt turned to the woman beside him. “We recruit only Drivers from Gormott.”

Mὸrag nodded. “Agreed. We have plenty of Ardainian foot soldiers as it is.”

“And all Gormotti recruits remain in Torigoth until they are fully assessed. I want there to be no question of loyalty before they step foot on our Titan.”

Niall smirked. “Agreed, Grand Marshal. What say you, Inquisitor?”

A soldier rushed forth before Mὸrag had a chance to reply. He collapsed into an exhausted bow at the Emperor’s feet.

“M-Majesty… forgive me, but…” the man coughed and lifted his head toward Mὸrag. “S-Special Inquisitor… a Mammut… it’s broken down the Anangham Gate.”

“What?!” Mὸrag quickly locked eyes with her Blade.

“My platoon, ma’am… they can’t hold it off! We only have one Titan Archelon!”

Mὸrag spun back to the Emperor and fell into a shallow bow. “Your Majesty, I beg your leave. I lend my full support to the Grand Marshal’s proposal, but I-“

“Go, Mὸrag. We’re all but done here.” The young boy turned to his Blade. “Take Aegaeon with you... and be careful.”

“Thank you.” She hastily turned to the man beside her and nodded in deference. “Grand Marshal.”

“Wait, Lady Mὸrag!”

The Inquisitor paused in her rapid stride.

“A Mammut from the Wastelands is not a beast to be trifled with. You believe that you alone can defeat it?”

Mὸrag straightened, her eyes flashing with confidence. “With all due respect, Grand Marshal, I am hardly alone with Brighid and Aegaeon at my side.”

The older man smiled and shook his head. “Be that as it may, you are still one Driver and there are only foot soldiers in the port to aide you. Should the beast get past you, it will have a clear path to Alba Cavanich.”

Niall’s brow rose at the thought. “What do you suggest?”

“I will mobilize the Archelon regiment. They will form a defensive wall to protect the capitol.” Robalt turned to the soldier still trying to catch this breath. “You – are there casualties?”

“Un-unclear, Grand Marshal, sir.” The young man stood up at attention. “We have… many injured men and citizens at best.”

“Then I’ll mobilize the med unit, as well. Lady Mὸrag, focus on driving the Mammut back. I will handle securing the port.”

Mὸrag nodded and waited for his dismissive wave before she took off running for the steam elevator.

\---

Their race to the port was silent. Mὸrag was engrossed in an internal battle as she strategically planned their attack – narrow piers hanging precariously over the Cloud Sea did not make for an ideal battleground. Space would be limited and the number of merchants and ships that normally crowded the area would complicate things even further.

Cannon fire broke her train of thought.

“The Archelon?” Brighid breathed out as she kept pace with her Driver.

“I suppose it is a reassurance to know it’s still working.”

Mὸrag nearly stumbled as Aegaeon threw his arm in front of her. She opened her mouth to question him, but a blistering of shouts caught her attention. A dozen or so people ran past them, pushing and shoving as they scrambled away from the port. Through the screams, Mὸrag could hear her name being whispered by some who were thanking the Architect she had arrived. She took some comfort knowing at least these few were alive.

The port was a disaster.

As the gunpowder smoke cleared, they could see the damage the Mammut had caused. Metal panels that made up the flooring of the piers were twisted and shredded. Bodies of soldiers and merchants were strewn about. The smell of blood was pungent.

Brighid gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. “How awful…”

“They didn’t stand a chance…” Aegaeon shook his head in dismay.

Mὸrag frowned as she took in the defeated look plastered across both their faces. With a hard swallow, she pushed down her own trepidation and took a step forward.

“Steel yourself. We have no time to dwell on those we cannot help. Let’s focus all of our drive on pushing this beast back to the Wastelands.” The Ardainian turned to her left. “Aegaeon, Brighid and I will attack from the front and draw its attention… stay on this side of the Mammut. I need you and the Archelon to block its path to the city.”

“As you wish, Mὸrag.”

The trio raced ahead and just as they nearly reached the port, Mὸrag threw an arm forward. Her whip-sword ignited almost instantly, sending a burst of blue flames across the path of the Mammut. The wall of fire roared to life between the beast and a group of cowering Ardainian and Nopon traders. Brighid and Mὸrag walked through it with ease, breathing in its soothing warmth as they sized up their opponent. The Mammut thrashed from side to side as it stepped back, away from the flames. Mὸrag lifted a hand, signaling to the solider atop the Titan Archelon to cease fire as she and Brighid continue to push their wall forward. The beast continued to stumble backward, roaring in frustration.

This was too easy…

All it took was a slip of a hand for it all to fall apart.

As the Mammut stumbled close to the stationary Archelon, the Titan reared back. The soldier atop it clung to whatever part of his seat that he could. His gloved fingers tightened against the trigger shaft, firing the cannon directly at the beast. The sudden attack drew the Mammut’s attention and it lunged forward, bursting through the fire wall with ease. Aegaeon quickly threw up a shield to knock it back, but the beast was relentless and charged through the flames again. It was clearly no longer frightened by the heat.

“Curses!”

Mὸrag cracked open her whips and lunged at the Mammut. The metal serrations clanged violently against the animal’s thick hide. Aegaeon’s shield would only last so long – she needed to draw its attention. She and Brighid easily dodged as its large tusks came crashing toward her. There was the opening she needed. Racing up a staggered set of crates, Mὸrag launched herself at the Mammut.

“Azure Striker Form the Second: Radiance!”

Warm, golden ether flames coated her body as she slammed her whips down on the beast’s head. The roar of pain was nearly deafening. Mὸrag quickly stood, blocking an incoming blow as the Mammut thrashed its head, destroying the crates behind her. Powder coated the air, obscuring her view. Flour. The damn crates had been full of Ardainian flour.

She choked as it coated her lungs and blinded her. She couldn’t see well enough to anticipate the next attack.

The Mammut spun, enraged, its thick tail knocking the Archelon and Aegaeon back. Hearing the collision, Brighid blindly tried to move away, but she stumbled over the body of a fallen soldier and fell to the ground. A whiplash of wind smacked into her as the beast’s tail sailed over her head… heading directly for her Driver. Mὸrag felt the impact on her left side, the rough hide nearly crushing her arm with its weight. The impact threw her back several feet and she lost her grip on one of her whip-swords when she collided with the ground. She skidded across the metal panels, the momentum of the impact only dissipating when her head slammed into a stairwell.

Her vision spun.

She could feel the impact tremors as the Mammut charged forward. Closing her eyes tightly to block out her blurred vision, she focused on the sound of its approach and quickly rolled away as the beast slammed its front feet down. Pain radiated through her body as her abdomen extended. There was no way she would be able to counter the next impending attack. Helplessly, she blindly threw the hand holding her remaining sword in the air.

She heard metal strike, but did not feel the impact.

Quickly wiping the flour from her eyes, Mὸrag gasped as Brighid stood before her, a flaming whip spinning wildly in her hand. She watched as her Blade brilliantly fended the beast off. A burst of flame, a violent slash of water… Brighid and Aegaeon synchronized their attacks to push the Mammut toward the broken gate. It was a formidable display, but one that the Inquisitor was not willing to merely sit back and watch.

Mὸrag took in a deep breath, burying the pain she felt beneath her resolve and stood. She took off after Brighid, sword in hand. With her first attack, she could feel something different about the flames that shot forward. They felt… hotter. She had fought against Brighid numerous times, one sword for each of them, but that had felt different. Fighting alongside one another – it made the ether that flowed between them ignite. There was something instinctual that convinced Mὸrag to keep going and to leave her twin sword in her Blade’s capable hands.

Eventually, the onslaught of fire and water forced the beast into submission. It thrashed about one final time before dashing back through the gate. Mὸrag sighed as she retracted her whip and turned to Aegaeon.

“Stay back and make sure no other creature crosses the threshold.”

The water Blade’s white eyes widened. “You mean to chase after it?”

“This Mammut destroyed the reinforced gate once – we cannot allow that to happen again. Brighid?”

“Right.”

Aegaeon gripped Brighid’s arm as she walked past him. “She’s injured.”

“I’m aware.”

“Wouldn’t it be best if I-”

The flame Blade shook her head. “We need you here, Aegaeon. The medic team should be here any minute. There are still injured citizens here who need your help more than we do.”

Aeageon’s frown deepened, but he let her go. There was no use arguing with Mὸrag, and Brighid was clearly just as stubborn. When they disappeared over a dusty hill, he turned back to survey the damage left in the beast’s wake.

\---

It didn’t take long for them to finish off the Mammut. Mὸrag brushed off Brighid’s attempts to return her whip-sword and the Blade obeyed when she fully took in the sorry state of Driver’s left arm. Without spoken words, the pair split up, surrounding the animal with an onslaught from the front and back. Mὸrag could still feel their ether connection burn within her blood despite the great distance between them and it served to distract her from the stabbing pain in her shoulder and chest. Their movements were like a seamlessly coordinated ballet – they dodged and struck in rhythm, fire and metal ripping into the Mammut’s flesh until it could no longer fight back.

A pride of Jagron immediately descended on the beast’s carcass. Mὸrag only just managed to step out of their path. They paid little attention to Brighid as she circled around them and made her way back to her Driver. With a gentle hold on Mὸrag’s right arm, she drew the fighter away from the gruesome scene to a more desolate cliff edge. The woman’s labored breath had her worried.

“Lady Mὸrag-”

“An arresting display of strategy…” Mὸrag coughed as she secured a sword to her hip. “That was… quite different… wouldn’t you say, Brighid?”

“Lady Mὸrag, perhaps you should rest a moment.” She tried to pull her Driver down, but the stubborn woman shook her off.

“Nonsense… Aegaeon…” She took in a deep breath as she turned to stumble back toward the broken gate. “Aeageon will…”

Brighid rushed forward as Mὸrag collapsed, a wave of dust kicking up as her body crumbled against the dirt.

“Lady Mὸrag!” She rubbed her back gingerly, hoping to coax her awake. “Open your eyes, Mὸrag!”

With caution, she slowly turned her Driver over and loosened her tie. She pulled open her shirt collar and pressed two fingers against Mὸrag’s jugular. There was a weak and rapid pulse along her neck, and her breathing had become even more ragged. Swallowing the knot that was growing rapidly in her throat, Brighid quickly rotated the gear locks on Mὸrag’s uniform and removed her shoulder cover and armored pauldron. Burning fingers made swift work of her jacket, only to reveal a dress shirt with even more buttons. With a growl of frustration, Brighid lost her patience and placed her hand on Mὸrag’s stomach. The fabric of the shirt burned away beneath her fingertips. She gasped at the sight of red and purple blotches of skin.

“Dammit! You will not do this to me, Mὸrag… do you hear me?”

She scrambled to grip the sword beside her. With a flick of her wrist, it ignited and she threw a pillar of fire into the sky. There was no way the sound of the Mammut succumbing hadn’t echoed to the port area… she could only pray to the Architect that Aegaeon happened to see her signal. If the Mammut was dead, he would know that the sky pyre could only mean one thing.

Brighid shook her head and banished the thoughts of dread filling her. She placed the whip-sword back on the ground and started to unscrew the cap on one of the glowing vials hanging from her belt. Wrapping her fingers around it, she gently warmed the contents until a small stream of it poured into her awaiting hand. Gingerly, she smeared the oddly colored cream across her Driver’s abdomen.

Amber eyes fluttered open and closed as Mὸrag fought for consciousness – it was a small comfort to witness, which was easily washed away with the woman’s moans of pain.

“Just a bit longer, Lady Mὸrag.” Brighid continued to smear more of the substance against the woman’s skin. “This poultice should start numbing you shortly.”

When she was satisfied that her stomach and ribs were well covered, Brighid moved behind her Driver. Carefully, she lifted Mὸrag’s head into her lap. Unfocused eyes gazed up at her, the adrenaline that had sustained her so long clearly having dissipated from her cells. It was unnerving to see those normally steeled and determined eyes drift so aimlessly. A dribble of blood leaked out between her lips. Brighid was quick to raise a thumb to wipe it off Mὸrag’s chin. The gesture made the Inquisitor smile.

“Th-thank you… Brighid…” She took in a slightly fuller breath. “The pain…”

“Gone?”

Mὸrag nodded and closed her eyes, wincing as she tried to move her left arm.

“Good.” Brighid placed both hands on the offending shoulder. “Then you must forgive me, but…”

Without warning, she twisted Mὸrag’s arm, pushing it up and in toward her chest until it popped. The Inquisitor let out a horrific cry, but it died off quickly as the throbbing in her shoulder faded. Sputtering out a dry cough, Mὸrag raised a gloved hand and grasped at Brighid’s fingers tightly. The gesture spoke volumes of her gratitude as her throat failed to let her speak.

“Rest for now, Lady Mὸrag. Aegaeon should be here shortly.”

A calming warmth blanketed over the Inquisitor as her Blade ran burning fingers through her hair. The question of where her Comissar cap must have gone vaguely entered her mind, but it left just as quickly. Instead, flashes of her battle with the Mammut came roaring back. It had all gone wrong so quickly. She should have asked the soldier to retreat, to take his Archelon to the regiment forming at the entrance to Alba Cavanich. If she had just-

“Enough.” Brighid ran a calming hand along the side of her face. “You did well, given the circumstances. Stop blaming yourself.”

“We… we closed in too quickly.” Mὸrag lifted her right hand and pressed her palm against her forehead as she sighed. “I should have… known it would…”

“Did you not just hear me?”

“My apologies… Brighid.” Mὸrag laughed lightly as she gazed up at her Blade. “Foiled by a cloud… of flour… and a Mammut tail. Perhaps… there will come a day… when you resonate… with someone less foolish…”

Her eyes started to lose focus yet again.

“I suppose one lesson… came out of this…” A shuttering cough forced more blood down her chin and she closed her eyes. “Your skill… fighting alongside you felt-“

A drip of water cut her off. She almost chalked it up to her building state of delirium, but then she felt it again against her cheek. Slowly, Mὸrag opened her eyes and her heart immediately shattered. Brighid’s head was bowed over her, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. There were tears spilling from her closed eyes, tracing painful patterns down her pale skin. Mὸrag had never seen a Blade cry before… had never seen _her_ Blade cry before… and it was a sight she desperately never wanted to witness again.

“Brighid…”

Burning hands gripped tightly at her hair and the front of her shirt.

“Brighid… it’s alright.”

The Blade merely shook her head as the tears continued to fall. With a soft sigh, Mὸrag raised her right hand. Trembling fingers brushed at Brighid’s cheek, wiping away whatever tears they could reach.

“Please… don’t cry for me…”

Brighid grasped the gloved fingers tightly and pressed them to her face. She planted a desperate kiss against them as she tried to use their warmth to ground herself. Mὸrag was alive. Mὸrag was still alive.

“Brighid! Mὸrag!”

Rapid footsteps echoed against the dirt. They both turned and watched with relief as Aegaeon raced toward them with the medic regiment following in his shadow. The team of soldiers swarmed Mὸrag immediately, pushing Brighid out of the way as they assessed her injuries. The Major barked orders rapidly, demanding a chest wrap and stretcher and a number of other things that the Blade could hardly understand. She stumbled back into Aegaeon, shuddering as he gripped her arms tightly.

"Brighid..."

"She can't die, Aegaeon..." She turned to the man, burying her face against the cold ether tube along his neck. "Please..."

"She won't, Brighid. It'll be alright." A gently hand cradled the back of her head as he held her tightly against him.

\---

There were two knocks on the door and Aegaeon only just managed to open it before Niall burst inside with the Grand Marshal hot on his heels. Mὸrag offered her brother a placating smile as he approached her. The young Emperor didn’t even bother to spare a glance to Brighid who was silently holding vigil beside Mὸrag, pale fingers laced with her own.

“So, it’s true…” Niall’s eyes bored into her imploringly. “You left the infirmary against the doctor’s wishes!”

Mὸrag turned away against his reprimanding tone, catching the eye of the Grand Marshal. “They healed me well enough, Your Majesty. I can recover just fine in my own quarters.”

“You should return, Mὸrag.” Niall placed a gloved hand on her arm. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Amber eyes turned back to him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I decline. My broken ribs have been mended and Brighid already set my shoulder properly in the field. It would be best for all if the doctors and Blades can focus on the injured soldiers and citizens rather than being distracted by the presence of someone of my station.”

Niall made to argue, but Robalt placed a stilling hand on his shoulder. “Lady Mὸrag makes a sound point, Your Majesty. She is no worse for wear. We should return our attention to repairing the Anangham Gate.”

With a sigh, the Emperor nodded. “Very well. You’re certain you are alright, Mὸrag?”

“Yes, please do not fret over me, Your Majesty.”

“I will see to it that she gets the rest she needs.” Brighid merely ignored the slight glare she could feel her Driver send her way.

“Good.” The reassurance relaxed Niall’s shoulders a bit. “Then I’m ordering you off duty for the next two days.”

“What?”

“I will ask Brighid and Aegaeon to reassess your status after that time.”

Mὸrag attempted to sit up further, but her Blade pushed her back. “Your Majesty-”

“Special Inquisitor, do you mean to defy a direct order from your Emperor?”

Mὸrag’s eyes widened in shock only to narrow in frustration at the smug look on Niall’s face. When had he become so sly? Perhaps Aegaeon was not the best influence after all.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” She bowed her head. “I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting your wishes.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” He squeezed her arm gently. “Rest, please, and do not hesitate to ask for anything. The full power of my throne is at your disposal, dear sister.”

Niall made his way out of her room before she could manage to thank him, Aegaeon following closely behind. Robalt caught her eye as he hesitated to follow after the boy.

“Grand Marshal…” She waited for him to meet her gaze. “Were there casualties?”

She felt Brighid’s grip on her hand tighten when he nodded.

“Half a dozen or so.” He rubbed a hand against his chin. “Most of the merchants took shelter in their ships. We lost the men guarding the gate and a few civilians. I imagine it would have been much worse without your intervention.”

Mὸrag’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose it is a small blessing that no foreign nationals were harmed.”

“You did well, Lady Mὸrag.” A gentle smile tugged at his lips. “As I taught you, your environment can prove to be an ally or a devastating foe. You did our military proud, considering your situation. I apologize for not sending you a more appropriate platoon of reinforcements.”

“Not to worry.” Mὸrag brushed off the apology. “The fewer people there were in the port, the better.”

“Your display was quite befitting of your colorful moniker, Flamebringer. Rest easy.” Robalt bowed his head in respect before showing himself out.

Mὸrag sighed as she leaned back against the pillows Brighid had propped up behind her. Her Blade had been awfully silent since they had left the infirmary. With everyone else having finally left them in peace, it was hard not to notice.

“Please forgive me, Brighid.”

“Lady Mὸrag?”

The Inquisitor turned her eyes to the woman beside her. “That Mammut should never have gained the upper hand. My lapse in judgement… it will not happen again.”

Brighid leaned forward and rested her head against her Driver’s shoulder. Silently, she let go of the Mὸrag’s hand and brought her burning fingers up to the front of the woman’s night shirt, tracing gentle patterns against the silk cloth. Mὸrag smiled softly and wrapped her arm around Brighid’s head, placing her lips against her hair and breathing in her warming scent. The rest of the world melted away as they took comfort in one another...

...until Mὸrag spotted Brighid’s journal resting on the nightstand behind her.

She held on to her Blade a little tighter as she thought back to their battle. Brighid had saved her life. She had fought off the Mammut flawlessly and together, they had felled the beast with an ease she had not felt in the port. It was true that they had no other means of fighting – her left arm had been completely incapacitated – but Mὸrag felt as though it was more than just a matter of convenience. She had felt _stronger_. It was counter-intuitive – she had only been wielding one sword and was unable to utilize any of the Arts they had perfected. Yet, it was wholly undeniable that Brighid fighting alongside her had been natural… and impressive.

Slowly, she removed the hand she had tangled in Brighid’s hair. The Blade burrowed her face closer to her neck in response. Mὸrag ran her fingers along the back of the woman’s left hand, which was still clutched to her chest. She stared at it almost reverently as she tried to stitch together the right words.

“Brighid?” She could feel more than hear the Blade’s hum in response. “Has your handwriting ever changed?”

Brighid drew back, lifting her head enough to gaze quizzically down at her Driver. “I’m sorry?”

“Your dominant hand is your left, is it not?”

She tightened her grip on Mὸrag’s shirt. “Yes.”

“I imagine that gives your handwriting a particular slant.” Mὸrag sighed as her Blade continued to stare at her blankly. “Has it ever appeared differently when you wrote as the Blade of other Drivers?”

Brighid frowned as she tried to dissect Mὸrag’s odd question. Wordlessly, she turned and grabbed her journal off the nightstand. With a touch of reluctance, she slipped her hand away from Mὸrag and began to flip through the pages.

“Was there a specific time you wanted me to look for?”

Mὸrag paused for a moment, sifting through her knowledge of the Emperors of old. “Yes… the last time you served as an Emperor's Blade.”

Brigid nodded and skipped to nearly the very beginning of the book. She splayed the journal open on her lap and jerked back when she noticed the writing on the page. She flipped back to the entry she had been writing while Mὸrag had slept, then back… and again. Her brow rose in surprise as she turned her gaze to Mὸrag.

“It changed, didn’t it?”

The Blade nodded. “I suppose I never paid much attention to that.”

“Emperor Dunian was left-handed. _I_ am right-handed.” Mὸrag smiled as she reached out for Brighid. “They say a Driver can have influence on their Blade. The Blade awakened from a brand-new Core Crystal will often take on some physical attributes of their first Driver. All other awakenings typically just cause certain personality traits to be enhanced or subdued… but you seem to be influenced rather uniquely.”

“Your dominant hand mirrors your Driver.” Mὸrag threaded her fingers with Brighid’s. “It seems inconsequential, but considering the weapons you wield… perhaps there’s a deeper reason behind it.”

“What’s wrong with my weapons?”

The Inquisitor laughed at her Blade’s indignant tone. “Nothing at all, Brighid. I merely meant that you are the only Blade type I’ve encountered to have two weapons at your disposal… each of which are formidable in their own right.”

Brighid tilted her head as she let her Driver’s words sink in. “I suppose a single twin ring or knuckle claw would be rather useless.”

“Indeed – your whips are quite unique in that sense. I've always thought that about you, but the implication didn't quite dawn on me until today.” Mὸrag lifted Brighid’s chin, keeping her hidden gaze locked on her face. “I believe you are meant to wield one of your swords.”

“I believe I already do, Lady Mὸrag. Soul Fire would not work quite so well if I was also right-handed. I’m afraid I would end up skewering you.”

The Inquisitor shook her head. “You saved my life today. Did you not feel the difference when we were fighting in the Wastelands? We have fought one another single-handed, but that… that was unlike anything I’ve felt since I resonated with you. It felt… _right_. I felt even stronger having you beside me rather than merely supporting me from afar.”

Brighid smiled as she leaned closer to her Driver. “You’re suggesting that we should fight alongside one another?”

“I believe that may be how you were always meant to fight.”

“All of your Arts utilize both of my weapons.”

“We’ll devise new ones.” Mὸrag dismissed the comment entirely. “We certainly didn’t need them against the Mammut.”

“Lady Mὸrag…”

“All I am suggesting, Brighid, is that perhaps we should spend time honing our skills as a pair – as equals on the battlefield. It might not be necessary against every enemy that crosses our path, but shouldn’t we be prepared for the worst?”

“You’re starting to sound like old Torna.” Brighid averted her gaze. “Drivers and Blades were treated as equals before the Aegis War… at least in the countries that would abide by the Tornan philosophy.”

“And Mor Ardain?”

“Emperor Hugo was very much in favor of that viewpoint, though that was no longer the case when I was later re-awoken.”

Mὸrag frowned as she tightened her grip on Brighid’s hand. “I know you’ve never been fond of the way Blades are treated in our military.”

“They are the weapons of their Drivers. They serve a purpose.”

“…You and Aegaeon have never been treated that way.”

Brighid paused as she turned back to Mὸrag. “I suppose you’re right… he and I would typically fight alone. Until you.”

The Inquisitor sighed as her expression fell. “I believe I may have inadvertently forced you into a submissive role. There has never been a reason for me to treat you like a typical Blade when you clearly are not…and yet...”

“Lady Mὸrag, you treat me well enough.” The Blade brushed a gentle kiss against her Driver’s cheek.

“Even so… would you- Brighid, did it feel natural fighting alongside me?”

She nodded.

“Then perhaps you should stand with me should the need arise again…”

“I think I would enjoy that change of pace.”

Mὸrag smiled as she nestled down against the pillows on her bed. She reached up her free hand and cupped Brighid’s cheek gently, rubbing her thumb over her smooth skin.

“Good, then I expect you to tell His Majesty that I am fully healed in two days time so we can commence with our new training plan. Surely he would agree that the Empire would benefit from us strengthening our bond even further with this new discovery.”

Brighid scoffed as she lifted the sheet and slipped into bed beside the stubborn woman. She wrapped her arms around her and drew Mὸrag down against her chest, running her fingers through fine, ebony locks.

“Rest. We have all the time in the world to perfect our union.”

Mὸrag merely smiled as she nestled against Brighid’s Core Crystal, letting its soft glow lull her into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
